


Got A Belly Full Of Promise And Eyes On You

by FunkyinFishnet



Category: The Voice RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Alternate Universe - Werewolves Are Known, Bonding, Dystopia, M/M, Male Slash, Mates, Relationship(s), Wolf Pack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-02
Updated: 2013-12-02
Packaged: 2018-01-03 06:06:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1066975
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FunkyinFishnet/pseuds/FunkyinFishnet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everything's going to hell. All across America, werewolves are overturning human governments and running rampant. Humanity is starting to hide. The Shelton pack down South believes in a harmony of wolves and humans and so is doing what it can to keep humans safe and to put down any especially destructive wolves. One day, packmaster Blake Shelton is surprised to meet human Adam Levine and realizes instantly that he's found his mate, at the most dangerous time possible. But Adam's not like most humans, he's really not that afraid of wolves. It's gonna be an real interesting ride.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Got A Belly Full Of Promise And Eyes On You

**Author's Note:**

> My wacky werewolf adventure, starring Blake, Adam, the Pistol Annies, and a new notables from Team Blake :)

 

 

A sharp squeal of ringtone woke Blake up. He grimaced, because shit, that was a short four-hour sleep, and God, did Miranda love to fool around with his phone. He forced himself to lever up and jab at the offending noise.

 

 

Miranda didn't wait for a greeting “We've got another one.”

 

 

She sounded pinched and fuck, that was not a good sign. Blake shoved his feet into nearby boots and grabbed his shotgun and yesterday's shirt before heading out of the abandoned office that he'd picked as his shelter. It was pitch-black outside, the occasional still-functioning streetlight giving off a weak-ass glow. Miranda was waiting in the lobby, armed with a mug of thick black coffee for him. He knew he'd married her for some damn good reasons, she'd just handed him one of them.

 

 

“How far out?” he asked at last.

 

 

Miranda leaned against the dusty reception desk; the place didn't look like it'd been occupied in months. They hadn't found any bodies though so maybe the human employees had gotten to a gated community or to one of the safer states, if they existed anymore.

 

 

“Town a couple of miles back, picked up commotion on the scanner. Me and the girls did a sweep after the cops vacated.”

 

 

Blake spat coffee grounds back into the mug and gave her a look. “You didn't wake me up for the fun?”

 

 

Miranda gave him her best 'you're a dummy' expression; it was all in those big beautiful eyes. “You were dead on your feet, and a dead packmaster is no help at all. Even a werewolf needs sleep.”

 

 

She was right there. Blake hadn't slept for what felt like days and they still had the journey back to their pack base as soon as they were done here. Terry and his family were holding the fort and all was well there as far as Blake knew. He was looking forward to getting back though, he hated splitting the pack but it had needed to be done.

 

 

“Just one left?”

 

 

“They probably got interrupted by the cops and didn't get a chance to do a proper check without getting perforated by silver bullets.”

 

 

Blake nodded and left the mug on the reception desk. Outside, Ashley and Angaleena were talking quietly, pistols at their belts just like Miranda – the Pistol Annies wasn't just a sweet nickname. They were mean shots and had trained their 'Baby Annie' RaeLynn just as well. There she was, all cute and young in a sundress and shoulder holster, a redder-than-blood flower in her hair. Her canines were showing as she tore into a chicken wing, not surprising, what with the moon so fat and all.

 

 

“Good hunting, ladies?” Blake called softly as he and Miranda neared.

 

 

Ashley smirked and that was definite blood on her knuckles. Clearly she hadn't had to go wolf in order to get her point across. Nice. Angaleena had her claws out though so obviously she'd gotten a little wild.

 

 

“I thought the cops vacated?”

 

 

“Scavengers,” was Ashley's reply, reaching into her knapsack for whatever she had for gun-cleaning. “Back out in thirty?”

 

 

“If the new guy's settles easy. Apparently there's coffee, have at it.”

 

 

Miranda led the way to Blake's Jeep, she must have taken it as her ride on the midnight run. She didn't look even a bit repentant. Blake shook his head and was about to say something when he suddenly caught onto an intriguing new scent. What in the hell was that? And why did it hook into his guts like that, dragging him forward? Blake cocked his head, this was new. He could feel his teeth sharpening, his eyes were probably flashing too.

 

 

He stopped, watching as Miranda opened the Jeep doors to reveal a guy sprawled out on the back seat – all bare bloodied skin and a fuckload of tattoos. There was stubble and dark hair and not a whole lot of fear, it had to be said, and were those skinny jeans? Blake coughed out a laugh, his mouth maybe twisting into a smile before he forced himself to take a few steps back.

 

 

“Blake?”

 

 

Miranda knew him better than anybody and right now, she had a hand on her pistol. She was wearing that white dress that Blake had always liked on her, the one that showed off a lot of leg and plenty up top too. Why couldn't he focus on that? Why was he...? Oh, shit.

 

 

A hundred different stories flew through Blake's mind – like Terry talking about meeting his wife for the first time. Well, wasn't this God-awful timing?

 

 

“Blake!”

 

 

Blake forced himself to look at Miranda and then glanced down to see what she was staring at, look at that, his hands were getting hairy and clawed. He hadn't shifted involuntarily since he was a kid still getting to grips with his blood. That just about confirmed it.

 

 

“Yeah, I think you just hauled in my mate.”

 

 

*

 

 

Miranda forced him back into his chosen office - “I will shoot you, Shelton, don't think that I won't!” - and then locked him in there while she went to deal with their new guest. Their guest, Blake's mate. He'd just about given up on ever meeting whoever nature had intended for him and of course it happened when Oklahoma had become practically outlaw country, most humans locked down as deep as they could go, werewolves warring. When the world had gotten stupidly dangerous, Blake's number came up. And of course it was a human, all kinds of breakable. Shit.

 

 

The door banged open and Miranda stomped in, tossing a wallet at Blake. “It's all he had on him.”

 

 

A couple of cards, some family pictures, a few bills, not much at all. “Adam Levine.”

 

 

“That's him. According to Jermaine, the name and face match up.”

 

 

Blake nodded and lifted the wallet, inhaling the smell. His mate, God, his cock was hard already, just from the scent. Miranda was smirking, oh like Blake didn't have plenty of ammunition on her already. He'd been the one to catch her with those Tennessee boys round the back of the Grill after she'd finished patrolling last month. She'd called it making the best of her time there. Blake had had to give her points for ambition and stamina. That was Miranda.

 

 

“Think you can talk to him without getting illegal?”

 

 

Blake took a deep breath. That was the question, wasn't it? He didn't want to scare his mate off, the guy clearly had balls of steel, hanging out in a bar when it was a well-known fact that werewolves ruled the state and humans were now fair game when they weren't in bunkers or gated communities. Even then, some wolves liked scaling the fences. Blake had always thought he was better than that, well now he had his chance to prove it.

 

 

Miranda punched his shoulder. “Don't screw up. I don't want to lead the pack alone.”

 

 

He knocked his shoulder to hers, because she'd be a kickass packleader and she knew it, and followed her to a smaller office just off the lobby. Clearly the guy wasn't so injured that he had to be turned. And there was that smell again, what was it, beer, sweat, salted peanuts – the bar the guy had been found in for sure, blood and medication and a thick burn of whoever Adam Levine was. Time to find out.

 

 

Miranda nodded towards the doorway. “You've got twenty minutes to charm him.”

 

 

Right, then Adam had to make his choice, they could find a way out of state for him, though it'd be risky in his injured condition seeing as his bleeding would make him easy to track, or he could head home the pack and maybe see himself sticking by Blake's side, a total stranger, a wolf. Yeah, this was gonna be fun.

 

 

Blake knocked and pushed the door open. Adam was laying out on a mess of blankets. He'd suffered a couple of deep scratches across his chest, some scrapes and bruises elsewhere, and a nasty knock to the head, but no bullet wounds and no wolf bites. He was still 100% human. He was still Blake's mate.

 

 

He glanced up at Blake's entrance, still not scared, maybe a little shocky after his ordeal, certainly damn tired. Blake enjoyed giving him a thorough head-to-toe glance; Adam was all fine bone-structure and sandpaper chin. He looked like he worked out, like maybe he knew how to handle himself. That was a plus when you ran with wolves, if he wanted to.

 

 

“Did you find them?”

 

 

Blake raised an eyebrow. “Who, now?”

 

 

Adam sighed. “My band. We were on stage at the Stomping Ground, then the windows blew in and wolves illegally took over.”

 

 

Black chuckled and shook his head, taking a seat near Adam’s middle, enjoying the picture-perfect view he was getting, along with a smell straight out of heaven. God, if this worked out, if this…ha, who said that good things would ever happen during such shitty times? Blake was pretty sure that he’d be saying hello and goodbye to his mate all on the same night. And God, it sucked because Blake was drawn to him, heat rising up in his belly, itching to take, claim, and mark. Fuck.

 

 

He wrenched his thinking back to the problem at hand – Adam’s bad information.

 

 

“Well now, it seems like you’re about a year behind on local news. Don’t they tell you anything out in L.A?”

 

 

Adam looked surprised until Blake held up his wallet and dropped it carefully into Adam's lap. “Oh. Hey, there’s been a lot going on, wolves want a lot more rights and things got pretty crappy super-fast, the riots and the lock-ins. So we decided to tour for a while, to get away from it all.”

 

 

“And you thought the South was a safe bet?”

 

 

Blake was incredulous. He knew that people could be a little blind to how things were going in the country’s far reaches; he’d seen enough evidence of that before the wolf rebellion, but this? This stunk of politics.

 

 

“The news always said that things were slowing down in the South, that the wolves there didn’t bother cities anymore, that instead they’d chosen the wildland, the prairies, I don’t know.”

 

 

Amusement tickled Blake’s smile. “The prairies?”

 

 

“Okay, it sounds stupid when you say it like that.”

 

 

Blake laughed and handed him bottled water. “Drink up. So brief history lesson, a lot of wolves down here decided enough was enough about a year ago. They didn’t like the way that human authorities was treating them so they started overturning local councils and before you knew it, humanity was locking itself away, in bunkers and gated communities. You don’t have those too?”

 

 

“Sure, they were getting pretty popular, but it’s mostly the super-paranoid crowd who think that all wolves are out to get them, you know? Since two of my bandmates are wolves, I know that’s not true.”

 

 

“And these bandmates of yours didn’t think that the stink of all-out were war was a good enough reason to turn around and get the hell out of town the moment you arrived?”

 

 

Adam shrugged a little. “They said it smelled safe to them.”

 

 

Huh. Maybe it was one of the fringe towns, the ones that some of the scrappier packs were still fighting to claim. That would explain the human bar. Damn it, Blake had hoped to help clear that kind of place next month. He rubbed a hand over his forehead and felt the smell of his mate soothe him. Mighty helpful, for as long as he had it.

 

 

“Clearly our fine upstanding government has decided to sell everyone a South at peace. From you’ve said, it’s working real well for them.”

 

 

Adam had managed to drain half the bottle. “Before, yeah, but now people are starting to move away, to try and find safer places to live, if that’s possible anymore. I figured it was, apparently not.”

 

 

He looked pretty dejected for a minute and Blake reached down to clasp one of his hands. “Just ‘cause it’s not safe doesn’t mean there’s not still a life to live.”

 

 

Adam smiled, just a little bit, and he didn’t push Blake’s hand away. “Is that what you’re doing? A little ‘wolves for humanity’ movement going on around here?”

 

 

Blake laughed, more than a little admiringly. The guy had seen wolves tear through the bar he’d been playing at, but he wasn’t afraid of the wolf sat real close to him holding his hand. He really did have balls of steel. Maybe he could feel that mating pull between them too. Blake’s heart thumped hungrily.

 

 

“You don’t know the South if you think we’re gonna give up easy. My pack and I have a home base back on our turf; we keep venturing out, grabbing what we can and taking care of any humans crazy enough to be out at a time like this. Whatever happens, we want a home for people to come back to.”

 

 

Blake had human family, and he wasn’t the only one. Human or wolf, there was room enough for everybody and he wasn’t going to start disbelieving that now.

 

 

Adam was frowning. “Is it possible…I mean, did you guys find my bandmates?”

 

 

Ah. Good point. Blake whistled sharply and Miranda appeared in the doorway, a little pissed off which mostly smoothed out to amused and happy when she caught sight of where Blake was sitting. She smiled down at Adam though, all friendly.

 

 

“He sets your recovery back, you let me know,” she told him, jerking her head towards Blake.

 

 

“Hey now, who’s to say he’s not a danger to me?” Blake protested, all false offense and mussed pride.

 

 

Adam laughed and it was a glorious sound, causing Blake to inch that bit closer. Miranda’s smile grew and Blake quickly started talking.

 

 

“Any sign of his band? He was playing with them at the bar.”

 

 

Miranda’s expression sobered quickly. “The guys in your wallet? Nobody remembers seeing them; they weren’t amongst the bodies anyhow.”

 

 

Adam’s face twisted and Miranda ducked away, called by Cassadee not far off. Blake stroked a thumb across the back of Adam’s hand, sensing his pain and worry. He wanted to wrap his arms around his mate and soothe away that hurt.

 

 

“They weren’t killed at the bar, that’s a good sign. Maybe your wolves got taken by the pack who raided there, they might have grabbed the other human band member to keep your wolves from fighting back.”

 

 

Blake had seen it happen before and Adam nodded his head slowly. “And the pack didn’t have time to grab me? Because, what, the cops arrived?”

 

 

“Your friends probably hoped that you’d be safe while they did what they could to survive and protect each other. Sound about right?”

 

 

“Yeah, it really does,” Adam blew out his breath. “Do you think…could you help me track them down? I know it’s a big ask.”

 

 

It was. Even if Miranda had asked, Blake would have had a hard time agreeing to such a crazy venture. Any pack willing to slaughter a bar full of humans wasn’t going to release any of its captured members because a human wanted his friends back.

 

 

“I can point you in the right direction, but seriously, whoever’s got them isn’t going to just give them up. Numbers in a pack are strength and anyways, they won’t deal with a human. They’ll kill you as soon as look at you.”

 

 

Adam’s shoulders slumped. Blake made a quiet noise in his throat, trying to convey how sorry he was, wanting to take away his mate’s pain. Adam leaned towards him, it felt exactly right. Blake’s free hand traveled to Adam’s shoulder, to the interesting ink mapped out there. Blake liked the idea of a tattoo for him on Adam’s skin; it made the heat twist up higher in his guts.

 

 

He glanced up and saw how Adam was looking at him, like he was trying to work something out. It was probably time for Blake to explain all that, like Adam needed more to grapple with, but shit, this wasn’t the kind of thing to keep secret. The rest of the pack probably knew by now and they weren’t known for respecting privacy much.

 

 

Blake cleared his throat and stayed close. “So you might have noticed a thing going on here…”

 

 

“A thing?” Adam sounded hugely amused.

 

 

“Give me a chance, it’ll become clear. Your friends ever tell you about wolves mating?”

 

 

“Sure, a wolf recognizes its mate instinctively.”

 

 

“Right, that’s basic, but right. That mate isn’t always another wolf though.”

 

 

He watched closely as Adam looked down, staring at their intertwined hands. He didn’t look shocked or disgusted, that was a good sign.

 

 

“Huh, I thought I was taking all of this kind of well.”

 

 

That was it? Blake’s surprise must have shown on his face because Adam smiled. “Like I said, I know wolves, have done my whole life. The band always said I’d end up with one.”

 

 

Blake wrapped an arm around Adam’s shoulders, enjoying the closeness. “Here’s the thing though, it’s still a choice. We can get you out of state, maybe to somewhere safer, but like you said, that might not be a possibility anymore. I won’t make you stay.”

 

 

Adam’s eyebrow quirked up. “But you want me to?”

 

 

Blake leaned in close to brush his lips brief and tender against Adam’s, before drawing back so that their breaths mingled. “Absolutely.”

 

 

Adam stared at him for a moment. “If I stayed, would you look for my band?”

 

 

Shit. Blake stared back; he really didn’t want that kind of deal happening here. “I can’t say that I would. I’d put the word out that I was looking for some people, that maybe there was a reward on the table for information. But I can’t start a war within a war; I can’t put bullseyes on my people when we’re already on the front line.”

 

 

Adam nodded a little, like he was considering everything. He didn’t look particularly devastated. Blake started to pull away, something cold settling in his stomach.

 

 

“Look, if you’re only interested as some kind of bargaining-chip-power-play or survival technique then…”

 

 

“No.” Adam grabbed his hand, his eyes intense. “Look, sorry, I know this isn’t the kind of thing you can back out of, once you’re claimed, that’s it, right?”

 

 

Blake nodded, clearly Adam’s friends had educated more than a little about wolf matters. Adam’s grip on him tightened.

 

 

“Well, from what you’ve said and what I’ve seen, soon there’s not going to be much left of the L.A I knew, is there? And my family…I haven’t heard from them since the tour began.”

 

 

Pain lanced through Blake, he knew what that was like, he’d lost his parents pretty soon after the wolf rebellion had started. “So this trip was more like an escape plan?”

 

 

“It was meant to be a test, to see if there was somewhere we could hole up safely once the tour was done, just in case, and then we thought we'd get word to our families and friends if things were as bad as people said. And now…” Adam swallowed. “I’m not saying this because I feel like I haven’t got any other choice, you’ve given me options, and I like this one. I’m staying.”

 

 

Blake’s heart leapt and he leaned in. “You’re sure? Because…”

 

 

“I know, I can’t change my mind once it’s done. But not only are you probably my best shot at finding the guys, I…I can feel it, the bond. Jesse described it to me, the heat and how it just grabs you. I always thought it sounded like…like something I might want one day; that’s why they always said I’d end up with a wolf. Now it’s happening and God, I _really_ want to know more about this bond.”

 

 

Blake pulled him close, one hand cupped Adam’s face, thumb tracing his lips. Adam leaned into the touch, fuck that was hot. He really was responding favorably to the bond. Awesome. Blake pressed a kiss to Adam’s hairline.

 

 

“I’ll keep you safe, but it’s gonna be hell a lot of the time.”

 

 

“I get that. And the safety thing, thanks but I’m getting the feeling that it’s gonna be the same everywhere from now on. I feel like, God, everything’s going crazy and terrible but this actually feels _good_.”

 

 

Blake nodded, he knew exactly how Adam felt and God, he wanted to get his hands all over his mate’s body but time was not on their side right now. It sounded like both of them were clinging to the bond because they wanted to, not just because nature told them to. Fuck yes.

 

 

“How about we talk about this more before we shove things forward? Get to know each other some?”

 

 

Adam was nodding when Miranda burst in, Cassadee hot on her heels and loading a crossbow.

 

 

“Time’s up, there’s a minor pack sweeping along the north road.”

 

 

Blake grinned, a little wild, and helped Adam to his feet. “Think you can run, rockstar?”

 

 

Adam managed a weak laugh, shrugging on a vest of some kind that someone had left for him slung over a chair. “I thought I was dead an hour ago. Running’s gonna be easy.”

 

 

*

 

 

Adam kept up. He rode beside Blake in the Jeep and watched how the pack worked together, how tactile everybody was, how there were growls and snarls and no hiding what they were. They were wolves in human skin, and sometimes in full wolf form, and they were proud of that. Werewolves had the best of both worlds, Blake had always thought so.

 

 

Adam got to watch as the pack shifted and wolves ran around him, sniffing at his legs and learning his scent. Blake stuck close to him, watching as his pack roughhoused and enjoyed the freedom of the world. Adam also saw them kill when they had to.

 

 

“They all call Miranda your wife,” he noted one night, as they finally neared the Shelton pack’s territory.

 

 

“That’s ‘cause she is, we’ve got the rings and everything.”

 

 

Blake smiled remembering that day, the pastor doing a quick service and then there were important papers to sign that gave Miranda the right to stand beside him as the pack’s co-leader. She’d worn a black dress and cowboy boots and had refused point-blank to kiss him – “Hell no, I know where that mouth’s been!” It’d been a good day.

 

 

Adam looked at him, amused and clearly confused. “So it’s a marriage in name only? That’s very daytime TV.”

 

 

Blake laughed, yeah, it probably did look a little soap-opera to an outsider, didn’t it? Wolves did things a little differently though. “Name only, it means she co-leads by right. It’s a hook in the laws, only a spouse or mate can lead a pack alongside a packmaster or if necessary, in their absence. I needed someone strong beside me and Miranda fit the bill. The pack knows it too.”

 

 

Adam nodded. “So I’d be a leader too, as your mate?”

 

 

“Oh, I see what this is, hungry for power already.”

 

 

Adam’s laugh made Blake’s insides feel warm for the rest of the journey. Reaching Shelton pack territory did that too.

 

 

*

 

 

Terry was glad to see everybody, and only had a few messages to pass on – there’d been a small attempt to throw the pack off their land but they’d seen off the invaders. Of course they had. Miranda and the other Annies were already itching to play their instruments and raise howls to the moon so Blake gave the go-ahead for a proper welcome home eat-and-listen. Adam was amused and sat close to Blake as guitars were brought out and beers stacked up. Blake gestured for Adam to sit in front of him so that he could wrap his arms around his mate. Adam submitted easily to the instruction, leaning back against Blake’s chest and making the warmth inside the packmaster ramp up even more. Holy cow.

 

 

“Good work, everybody,” he called, raising up a beer. “Let’s make the most of it.”

 

 

There were howls of agreement, then guitars got strumming and Miranda’s beautiful haunting voice called out into the night. Adam seemed to soak it all in. His injuries were almost completely healed now, though Blake could still feel the fragile nature of his ribs, how easily his skin would tear without werewolf healing. Adam was human, his whole life was delicate.

 

 

Blake kissed a spot behind Adam’s ear and then trailed teeth down to his neck, kicking up Adam’s heartbeat. Well now, that was a pleasant discovery. Blake kept paying attention there, his teeth making quite an impression. He wasn’t bothered by the fact that he was surrounded by pack – he wasn’t the only one enjoying the closeness of a mate. Adam didn’t seem to mind either.

 

 

Eventually though, Adam unfolded up to his feet, looking a little breathless and dark-eyed. He gestured for Blake to follow him. Blake did, amused at the thought that he was following his mate rather than the more traditional reverse situation. Miranda had always said that he’d end up with a handful, because karma was hilarious.

 

 

The pair of them wandered a little way off from the pack, Adam eventually stopping and choosing a tree to lean back against. “It’s a nice place.”

 

 

“Yeah, pretty big too, handed down from my grandaddy. Now he was a powerful packmaster.”

 

 

Adam smiled, looking around, maybe spying stars through the tree canopies, maybe hearing Miranda, Angaleena, and Ashley joined in gorgeous harmony. Adam swayed towards him, like he was being pulled there by invisible strings. Blake’s hands reached for that trim waist, like they were always meant to be there.

 

 

“Your pack’s pretty awesome too.”

 

 

Blake grinned, full of packmaster pride. He’d picked up a lot of strays but they’d all gelled together really well and when someone wasn’t a good fit, well he knew some good packmasters who were willing to take them in instead. “It is, isn't it?”

 

 

Adam’s laugh was a delight. “Ego really isn’t a problem for you, is it?”

 

 

“I don’t have a problem with it, no.”

 

 

There was the crackle of something good in the air and Blake couldn’t stop grinning. Because he was on a knife-edge here, Adam could decide that actually he didn’t want this whole mate thing and he could get out now before taking the claiming bite. The fact was, Blake wouldn’t blame him – it was a hell of a commitment, especially to someone he’d only met a few short days ago. But the fact also was that Blake didn’t want him to go, not by a long shot.

 

 

“I wouldn’t have to be turned, would I?” Adam asked suddenly.

 

 

Blake startled and shook his head. “Absolutely not, my word on this land. It’s your choice.”

 

 

Adam looked reassured and Blake wondered just what Adam’s friends had told him about wolves, clearly their information was mostly good, but there’d obviously been warnings too. A definitely bright idea.

 

 

“Would you want me to?”

 

 

Blake thought about for a little while, entertaining fantasies of Adam getting to run beside him in wolf-form, getting to stay safer from the dangers that they faced every day, getting to speak with more of a weight of authority when they met other packs. A human mate had certain authority but a wolf mate had a lot more.

 

 

“Not gonna lie, that’s an attractive idea. But it’s all on you. Human or wolf, you’re my mate and I’ll take you either way.”

 

 

Heat punched up in Adam’s eyes and he pressed closer, playful and reeking of lust. Shit, that was a cocktail and a half. Blake wanted more; he wanted to bury his face in the crook of Adam’s neck.

 

 

“Take me, huh?” Adam’s voice was smoky. “Now _that’s_ an attractive idea.”

 

 

He was tempting and he was also not lying – his steady heartbeat revealed that. So Blake surged forward, fusing his mouth to Adam’s, pressing Adam up against the tree trunk. Blake licked past Adam’s lips, his hands traveling Adam’s body eagerly and possessively. Adam was moaning and pushing into Blake, demanding more. Oh fuck yes.

 

 

“Won’t claim you, God I swear I won’t,” Blake muttered. “This is a just a real good getting-to-know-you-dance.”

 

 

Adam choked out a laugh between kisses. “Yeah, my thoughts…exactly. Fuck!”

 

 

Blake unzipped Adam’s difficult skinny jeans – God, why would a man ever choose to wear dick-squeezers like that? They got in the way of all the fun – and grabbed hold of Adam’s hard cock with an approving growl. Adam shivered a little in response. Oh, really?

 

 

“Fuck, that’s…” he gasped, thrusting into Blake’s hand with zero shame.

 

 

Blake growled again, his hips rolling, his cock rubbing against Adam’s thigh. “You really were made for a wolf.”

 

 

Adam sighed a string of curse words and lifted his head to look at Blake with heavy-lidded eyes. Deliberately, he bared his neck. It was Blake’s turn to curse, his hips thrusting harder and his mouth zeroing in on Adam’s bared neck. He wouldn’t bite him yet but he would mark him up, so that everyone would see that Adam was taken. The thought made satisfaction snarl inside Blake and the noise escaped as Adam’s thrusts got sloppy and frantic. Blake grinned with teeth.

 

 

“C’mon, rockstar.”

 

 

With a helpless groan, Adam came, spilling between both their bodies. Blake made a triumphant guttural noise and freed up a hand to yank open his own jeans, using wet fingers to finish himself off. Adam’s body was still trembling with aftershocks as Blake rubbed their combined spills into Adam’s skin. God, that smelled good. It smelled _right_. Adam didn’t look like he was going to complain, in fact he looked pretty damn satisfied, and the mark on his neck made Blake smile with heat.

 

 

“Let me guess, you don’t want me to shower for a while,” Adam hazarded with lazy amusement.

 

 

Blake leaned in to lick a stripe all the way from Adam’s collarbone up to his ear, where he sharply nibbled on the lobe. Fuck, so much territory to explore.

 

 

“Now that’s an attractive idea.”

 

 

Miranda howled out laughter and approval when she caught sight of them wending their way back through the trees. The song she dedicated to them soon after was filthy and made Adam laugh pleasingly as he curled up against Blake. He slept in virtually the same position too. Blake contentedly rested his mouth against the mark on Adam’s neck.

 

 

*

 

 

The call came a couple of days later – a pack was running a few towns over, on the state-line. Blake had put out feelers, describing the bandmates of Adam’s, claiming he had their relatives who were looking for them. Adam suggested sticking in one of the band’s distinctive lyrics, so that if his friends heard the message, they’d know he was out there alive, searching for them.

 

 

Now it was paying off, apparently this pack had some new members and was known for a bit of plunder-and-run. They could be the ones who’d taken Adam’s friends. Miranda was getting the pack ready; Danielle was humming a sweet little tune as she loaded guns and handed them out. Blake smiled as he watched her, those ever-present knives glinting at her hips and ankles. She was their little whirlwind, like RaeLynn she was super-cute to look at with a voice to melt snow but she got vicious when riled and boy, did she know how to use those knives.

 

 

Adam wasn’t coming with them. Because, as Blake had pointed out, Adam might be soaked in his scent but he still carried the faint tones of his friends with him and if the pack they were tracking got hold of that, then it was more than likely that they'd slit his throat before dragging his body back to his friends, to show just what kind of business they meant.

 

 

Adam hated it, but he got the logic. He’d been learning how to fire various guns since arriving on Shelton territory and Terry was pleased with his progress.

 

 

“He’s no Annie but he’s not a liability either,” was his assessment.

 

 

Good enough. Blake pressed against Adam, scraping teeth along his neck and taking in his hopeful eyes and loving determined smell. God, what a thing to walk away from. But that pack was causing trouble, so even if they didn’t have Adam’s friends, they needed to be circumvented.

 

 

Adam bit Blake’s bottom lip. “You come back, cowboy.”

 

 

Blake grinned, his teeth sharp and his eyes glowing. “Why? You got plans or something?”

 

 

Adam rubbed against him shamelessly, strong and mischievous and so very sure of himself. “Or something.”

 

 

It was Blake’s turn to laugh as he tore himself away, whistling for the pack to roll out. He didn’t look back, but he carried his mate’s smell real close to his heart. That was well worth coming back for.

 

 

*

 

 

It was a tough fight. The wolves that Blake’s pack were tracking were strong and like Blake, they had strays in their number but they seemed more inclined towards forcing membership rather than laying out options. Their leader wasn’t inclined toward having a peaceful talk or negotiating either, which was a damn shame seeing as Blake was good at both, no matter what Miranda said. Their leader was redheaded and furious, a sleek slip of a wolf who was hard to pin down and God, did Blake try.

 

 

Eventually though, one of Cassadee’s arrows hit the rival pack leader’s flank and that painful distraction gave Blake the spare-second chance he needed to tear out the guy’s throat. Blake shifted back to human form soon after, naked and covered in blood. His brain snarled with triumph and blood-lust, and his pack howled his success. He glanced over at Cassadee and saluted his thanks, getting a surprised little smile in return that just about broke his heart. All these months with the pack and she still felt like she wasn’t all that. Oh, but she was glorious.

 

 

Miranda kicked a surly-looked wolf to his knees in front of Blake, her pistol loaded at her side. Her hair was a wild bloodied mess and somehow she hadn’t smeared her lipstick at all. Miranda was always a picture and Blake felt stronger with her beside him. How much stronger would he feel with Adam there too?

 

 

“They say they haven’t got our guys,” Miranda was short. “But they reckon there’s a pack running in Texas at the moment who've got a couple of familiar-looking tagalongs.”

 

 

Blake’s eyes lit up, his friend and fellow packmaster Brad was in Texas and would no doubt be willing to take a gander if Blake asked, just to check. All right then. Blake stared down at the wolf.

 

 

“You willing to run off and stop clawing folk’s land up like chump steak?”

 

 

The wolf sneered and spat, suddenly moving in a slashing dive toward Miranda. A weapon discharged and there was little RaeLynn, her gun pointing right at the now-dead wolf while blood ran down her chin. The Annies had taught her well. Blake turned to the other defeated pack’s members who had survived the fight.

 

 

“It’s a simple request. Anyone here willing to fulfill it? I’ll know if you don’t.”

 

 

A sweet-faced girl with chestnut hair and the greenest eyes raised a hand. “Please. We just want to eat.”

 

 

Blake talked to the survivors, laid down some rules, listened to who might be lying, and eventually sent them on their way. Nobody had asked to join his pack, they seemed more inclined to huddle together and shiver. It seemed their packmaster wasn’t going to be missed, nor were those who he’d let run rampant through the ranks. That pack might have hope now.

 

 

*

 

 

Blake wasn't the only one eager to get home. They’d probably end up bunking on the road for a night before completing the journey though. Jermaine was singing something catchy and Danielle was harmonizing with him something beautiful. Blake had a head full of extremely horny thoughts; a good fight always did that to him.

 

 

A day later, they were home, their headlights cutting a path ahead as evening bruised the sky. There was Terry’s son hanging off of the gate, he was growing well into his abilities, his wolf teeth showing nicely already, and there was Terry’s wife in leather and a wildly floral-print dress. She assured Blake that things were just fine, they’d been picking fruit for canning and there was a peach cobbler with his name on it in the kitchen. Now that was the kind of thing a packmaster liked coming home to.

 

 

When Blake parked up and entered the large ranchhouse that had been his family's home for generations, he nearly bumped into exactly who he was looking for - Adam. His mate froze and then flew into action, grabbing Blake's shirt and yanking the packmaster into a forceful kiss. Blake had no problem with that at all, his hands making eager fists in Adam’s clothes and then in his hair. Adam was trying to lick the taste out of Blake’s mouth before they both finally came up for air. Neither of them let go though.

 

 

“You’re…?”

 

 

Oh right, all the dried blood. Blake shrugged quickly out of his shirt. “None of it’s mine, we’re good. No sign of your friends, but there’s word of a pack in Texas who might have them. I’ve got a friend there who can…”

 

 

Adam cut off his words by swallowing them whole, a hand running down to grab Blake’s ass. Well now, that was a welcome even better than peach cobbler. Blake groaned and growled and bodily picked Adam up. Adam immediately wrapped his legs around Blake’s waist, stripping off his own shirt to reveal rippled inked skin as Blake walked them through the house to his bedroom.

 

 

“Eager,” Blake muttered approvingly as they both hit the king-size bed.

 

 

“You were…you idiot, you could have...” Adam’s hands were roaming Blake, like he was checking for damage. “You tried to find them when you didn’t have to.”

 

 

Blake tried to press just how good he felt into a kiss and hoped that Adam got the message, he seemed to by the way he was thrusting against Blake. His eyes were blown black when he looked up again.

 

 

“Inside me, now.”

 

 

Heat shot so powerfully through Blake, he had to pause, breaths heaving. But Adam was still moving insistently, flinging jeans and boxer-briefs away before clever fingers wrapped around Blake’s ready cock, punching a leathery groan out of the packmaster.

 

 

“You’re supposed to submit to me, you know,” he managed to chew out.

 

 

It was Adam’s turn to pause. “Publicly or privately?”

 

 

“Both.”

 

 

Because the wolf in Blake wasn’t going to settle for less, he was an Alpha and he needed his mate to submit. Adam didn’t look uncomfortable with the idea, in fact his fingers were moving faster around Blake’s cock.

 

 

“Fuck, you were definitely made for me.”

 

 

Oh yes.

 

 

Blake couldn’t pause any longer. He pinned Adam down, teeth and lips making pleasurable progress across Adam’s abs and pecs, before diving down to mouth at his cock like a promise while his wet hand worked Adam open. Adam was fucking shameless, clearly determined to get what he wanted, a feverish desperation taking over. He stank of lust and need and a gutpunch of love that made Blake leave marks all over Adam's ribs, thighs, and collar, marks that said _mine, motherfucker._

 

 

Eventually, many thorough moments later, Blake slid inside Adam and everything clicked into place. Adam let out a wrecked sound, a sound that only got louder once Blake started moving, slamming in and drawing out, eyes pinned to Adam's expressive face. Adam's thighs squeezed him tight and urged him on. His mouth demanded even more, his fingers raking Blake's back as fiercely as any wolf.

 

 

“Come on, fuck, fucking _need_...Blake...”

 

 

Blake bit a bruise onto his chest, then another and another, bringing color to the tattoos there, making his mark. Adam wanted more. Blake's pace increased, the bond between them fucking _trembling_.

 

 

“Fuck, your mouth,” Blake growled as Adam panted out more filth.

 

 

The human grinned at him, with teeth. “Later, cowboy.”

 

 

They were almost there. Blake groaned, claiming his mate's mouth, painting his name across Adam's lips and onto his tongue. He ground out lust-dipped affection, promises written between an overpowering urge that couldn't be completely vocalized. Adam clawed the same thing into Blake's skin. It was perfect, it was them.

 

 

Blake licked up Adam's neck. Now was the time. He could turn Adam, he could blame it on the heat of the moment, but he wouldn't. He would bite to claim, not to turn, and Adam was gazing at him, trusting him and telling him to fucking do it, come on, Blake, _fuck_. Blake shoved in particularly hard and Adam's back arched, his neck beautifully exposed. Blake sank his teeth in.

 

 

The bond erupted. Somebody howled, it might have been both of them.

 

 

When they both somehow came back to themselves, Blake rubbed hands across Adam's chest, pausing to lick at a trickle or two. Adam leaned over and licked up the dried blood that still decorated Blake's skin. A shudder went through the packmaster and he pressed fingers to the claiming bite on Adam's neck. All other marks might fade, but this one never would.

 

 

Adam moaned softly, sated and wonderfully content. Blake could feel all of that, through the bond. Adam smiled sleepily at him.

 

 

“You're feeling pretty damn pleased with yourself.”

 

 

Blake kissed the mark, getting another moan, and then thorough debauched Adam's mouth, for good measure. “I have every right to.”

 

 

Adam pushed wondering fingers into Blake's mouth, over his still-sharpened teeth. He liked what he felt. God, he was so much a wolf already. He really was meant for this.

 

 

Blake sobered for a second, kissing Adam's fingers. “I can't promise I'll find them. And I won't endanger my pack on a search.”

 

 

Adam's nod was slow and understanding. “Pack is everything.”

 

 

He didn't say that his band had practically been his pack, friends that had stuck together through the lowest times and who had tried to carve out a new life away from the unbelievable dangers sweeping their home. He didn't have to.

 

 

They stayed that way for several hours, lust-addled and touch-crazed. They rolled together again, gentler and slower now, feeling out the bond. Adam bit a mark onto Blake's neck, staking his own claim.

 

 

When they eventually surfaced, it was only to grab the peach cobbler from the kitchen and two spoons.

 

 

*

 

 

A week later, when a couple of Omega wolves came calling at the Shelton pack's territory border, a pretty little blonde in a rawhide skirt suddenly swung into view. She had a long blade on one hand and a smile full of sharp teeth. A little boy ran off down a path when she nodded slightly.

 

 

The Omegas followed the path until a large ranchhouse came into view, as did more pack members. They were laid out in the sun or climbing trees, or cleaning weapons. They were all ages and their eyes followed the visitors, even when they seemed to be looking elsewhere. There were a couple of Jeeps with the hoods up, shirtless pack members crowding round them. They held sweating beer bottles and occasional work tools, laughter in their gestures which peaked whenever roughhousing broke out.

 

 

The boy furiously beckoned the visitors from the ranchhouse door. “You're interrupting lunch.”

 

 

He sounded accusing and turned tail quickly to lead them into a room immediately off the lobby. There was a lot of dark wood and hunting trophies, and people talking over the top of one another. A table covered with food was densely surrounded by pack, the boy ran to his mother who gave him a sandwich and a smile. The man, the packmaster, at the head of the table signaled for quiet just by lifting his head to look at the nervous visitors. On his left sat a curvy blonde wearing perfectly-applied make-up and a significant ring on her finger. Her eyes were like daggers, _now what do we have here?_ they seemed to say. She looked dangerously interested, like it would make her day to have to throw down.

 

 

On the packmaster's right sat a shirtless human with heavily-tattooed arms and pecs. One of his tattoos could have been an interpretation of the old Shelton brand – a shotgun and distinctive belt buckle against the shadow of a howling wolf. It crawled from his collarbone to his neck, close to a claiming bite. Beside it was inked a unique wolf's pawprint. The packmaster was holding the man's hand and the way the man shifted in his seat warned that he was armed and on his guard, no matter how relaxed he seemed.

 

 

The packmaster looked expectant. “Say your piece. We've got dessert coming.”

 

 

One of the visitors stepped forward. There was a click as someone moved a pistol. The visitor swallowed, all eyes on him. Sweat trickled down his back. He cleared his throat.

 

 

“I heard something in Alabama. There's music, and lyrics that match a rumor?”

 

 

The packmaster sat forward a fraction, everybody in the room seemed to lean with him. That was power. He had a wife and a mate, a room and a ranch overrun with wolves. And this was a small pack!? The visitors' hearts thumped fast and loud, something that almost everybody in the room could hear.

 

 

The shirtless man smiled, his teeth weren't sharp and his eyes didn't glow, but he looked more than a little feral.

 

 

_-the end_


End file.
